


Higher

by ProblemWithTrouble



Series: 00Q [15]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 06:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14206896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProblemWithTrouble/pseuds/ProblemWithTrouble
Summary: Something above him flashed brightly and drew his gaze. As soon as his eyes focused on the object in the bright morning sun he sighed. It was just someone out for a morning flight. He stared at the vast wings that were now circling above him and felt a small pang of envy.Q doesn't know how to fly and Bond decides that needs to change





	Higher

It was yet another mission gone to absolute shit that had sent Q to the roof, where no one was technically allowed and he could be alone. He took a long drag of his cigarette as he watched the sun rise over London. 

Something above him flashed brightly and drew his gaze. As soon as his eyes focused on the object in the bright morning sun he sighed. It was just someone out for a morning flight. He stared at the vast wings that were now circling above him and felt a small pang of envy.

The person flew over him and landed not ten feet behind him. Q turned to look at Bond with a flight windbreaker and wings that spanned at least two meters to each side of his body. The feathers were powder white with light gold tips and Q almost wanted to touch, almost. They were strong and beautiful as they continued to reflect the morning sun as Bond left them unfolded slightly, almost framing the man.

“You know flying is a lot more effective at getting rid of stress,” Bond said as he walked towards his quartermaster. He stopped directly in front of the smaller man and grabbed the cigarette. “Besides we wouldn’t want our esteemed Quartermaster dying early because he smoked too much and didn’t fly enough.”

Q took back his smoke and took a long breath, giving Bond a pointed look as he did so. “You sound like Medical.”

Bond looked at Q in mock offense. “What have I ever done to make you think I could be from Medical?”

Q gave the agent a pointed look. “Nothing. I like them better, they never lose my equipment.”

“If I brought back your gadgets you’d never make anything new.” Bond was making his way backward to the edge of the roof again.

“We might be able to afford to try new things if we didn’t have to rebuild a gun for you every two weeks.” 

“But it’s more fun this way,” Bond said, then winked and took off into the air. Before he left to go back to wherever he had taken off from he circled around and brought the tip of a wing down just far enough to ruffle Q’s hair.

* * *

After Bond and Q’s morning on the roof they fell into a bit of an awkward friendship. Post mission Bond would go to Q-Branch and try to sleep off the mission on the couch in Q’s office. They spent all of their breaks on the roof. Sometimes they would just sit and talk. Sometimes Bond would fly overhead and do tricks while Q watched. And sometimes, after particularly taxing missions, they would sit in silence, staring at the horizon, doing nothing else. 

One night after Bond got back from a mission with more than a few bullet holes riddling his body, almost a year and a half after Q first saw Bond fly. Bond was staring at the ceiling with his wings splayed around him, covering half of Q’s office  
He was lying on Q’s couch while Q exacted his revenge for what they had done to his agent from his computer. 

It was nearing two in the morning when Q finished and finally looked away from his screens. He stared at Bond for a moment before speaking.

“What’s it like?” he asked.

Bond turned his head and held back a wince. “Being shot?”

Q rolled his eyes. “ _Flying_.”

Bond’s eyebrows furrowed slightly and he struggled to sit up. He wasn’t able to stop himself from wincing. Q knew better than to offer assistance. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve never flown?”

Q dropped his gaze to his lap.

“Q, why haven’t you ever flown?” Bond knew that some people were born with out the ability to fly, but from every record Bond had dug up Q wasn’t one of those people. Bond had heard horror stories of parents getting their children’s wings clipped or a small percentage of people who stopped wing growth after adolescence to give the person small wings that were dainty and “beautiful.” Suddenly Bond felt fiercely protective of the man in front of him and wanted to snap the neck of anyone who had dared to hurt Q.

“I tried once,” Q said quietly. “When I was a kid. I shattered my ankle.”

“Why didn’t your parent’s teach you?” Bond asked. Parents were almost always the ones to teach their children to fly. It was a right of passage for both parties. It was like learning to ride a bike. And with a kid like Q who hadn’t spent much time in elementary school where everyone else learned they probably would have been the only people who would do it.

“They were busy,” Q snapped defensively. “You haven’t answered my question.”

Bond would have sighed if he had been able to actually use his lungs completely. “Flying is a rush like you’ve never felt. There’s wind whipping at your face and … it’s impossible to explain,” Bond trailed off.

“Thank you. That was immensely helpful.”

A thought seemed to come to Bond’s mind, because he leaned forward on the couch and a grin covered his face. “You have a windbreaker your size down here?” 

“Why?”

“I’ll teach you to fly.”

“No, you won’t. You can barely sit up.”

“But, Q,” Bond pouted.

“When you don’t have as many holes as a wheel of cheese, then we can talk about it,” Q said with the same voice that lead agents through missions.

Bond pouted for a minute. Q started shutting down his computers and grabbed Bond’s coat for him. Bond fought to his feet and accepted the coat without his usual whining about how he could handle it. Q shot him a suspicious look as he grabbed his things. When Bond was particularly beat up after a mission Q would drive him home. Bond would also get pretty defensive. It was when Q held the door open for the agent and didn’t get so much as a scathing look that Q became concerned.

“What are you plotting?” Q asked as he started the car.

Bond looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Plot against my dear quartermaster? I would never.”

“Plot against? no. Plot with the intention to save from an imaginary danger? yes.”

Bond cocked his head to the side and smirked. “Alright, I’m plotting.”

“James,” Q started in a scolding voice. “You were discharged from the hospital _today_. They kept you in a chemically induced coma for three weeks.”

“Because they thought I would try and bust out,” Bond cut in.

“Because any sort of excursion – so much as flirting with the nurses – could have been fatal.” Q shot a glare at Bond. “You will not go about plotting anything for at least another two weeks.”

“Come on, Q, what’s the harm?”

“The possibility of your death.”

“Didn’t you hear? Resurrection is my hobby.”

Q groaned as he pulled up in front of Bond’s building. He rested his head on the steering wheel. “Why do I even bother bringing you back from you missions?”

“Because I have a spectacular arse.” 

Q lifted his head and gave Bond a flat look. “You’ve taken too many drugs. Off you go.”

Bond flashed him a wide grin and got out of the car.

* * *

A month later Bond walked into Q’s office with a grin. 

He was recovering well, but he still limped when he thought no one was watching or if it were just him and Q. Bond’s past missions became something of a regular topic all the same. Some nights after Q got off of work he would go to Bond’s flat since Bond had been all but banned from MI6 for at least the next two months. They would sit for hours eating whatever take out Q had found for them. Q would talk about his minions and the other agents he worked with. Bond would talk about his past mission. Neither of them were completely sure if Bond was telling him because he missed the field or because he wanted Q to know. Q just had to rant to someone about the stupidity that surrounded him.

“What is it?” Q asked, only sparing a glance at the agent.

“Check your email,” Bond said simply.

Q gave him a suspicious look and did as he was told. There was an email from Tanner telling him that he had the rest of the day and week off. “What did you do?” 

“Grab your stuff. Let’s go,” was Bond’s only answer.

“It’s the middle of the day. I can’t just leave,” Q argued.

“It’s only an hour until the end of day and a week would do you some good.”

“There’s no proof of that.” The last hour didn’t really make a difference to Q since he had already been there two hours earlier than Bond knew. It was more the idea of leaving just because Bond said so. Bond wasn’t the only stubborn one. 

“There’s also no proof that staying here won’t kill you,” Bond countered with a grin.

Q huffed a sigh and started signing off of his computers. Occasionally he would cast a sideways look at Bond. “Where are we going?”

Bond seemed to hesitate for just a moment, as if his resolve was wavering, but he still answered as he led Q out of the office. “Skyfall.”

Q’s feet stuttered under him and Bond grabbed his arm to steady him before he tripped under his own feet in the middle of his branch. He turned to Bond, his expression an odd combination of concern and shock.

“I thought it burnt down?”

“Kincade said he wanted me to rebuild it.” If he were the type to look at his feet and blush he would have. 

Q smiled at Bond. “I need to go home and get some things and then we can go.” 

Bond’s eyes lit up. “Then let’s go.”

Bond drove them to Q’s where Q ran up the stairs to his flat to get his grab bag and shut down his flat for the next week. His heart was hammering in his chest and he blamed it on the fact that he had ran three flights of stairs instead of taking the lift. It didn’t seem to matter that it had been hammering since Bond had said that they were going to Skyfall.

There was something overly personal about the fact that that was where they were going, like Bond was inviting him physically into his life. It made adrenaline flood into his veins and he was typing faster than he probably should have been since he was only going on a trip with a friend. 

The computer locked as the thought crossed his mind and his fingers froze poised over the keyboard. Bond was just a friend. They weren’t going on a romantic get away and nothing special was going to happen. There was probably a reason to the fact that he was leaving – a motive that Q had glanced over in his excitement. 

He took a deep breath and tried not to be disappointed as he doubled checked the things in his grab bag to stall having to go back to Bond. 

When his breath was steady and he thought that he could trust himself not to ask Bond why they were going to Skyfall he slung the bag across his back and went back downstairs.

Q got into the car without saying anything else and ignored the worried look Bond threw him.

Q knew that he had grown attached to Bond but he knew when something was no longer just a friendship and he was feeling like he might have fallen in love with James Bond without anyone caring to warn him that he was getting close to the edge.

“You haven’t asked why we’re going,” Bond said, breaking Q out of his internal crisis. Q couldn’t place them exactly, but he knew that at least an hour had passed since they had left London.

“Why are we going to your childhood home, Mr. Bond?” Q replied before he could stop himself, the snark coming up as a natural defense. 

“I’m going to teach you how to fly,” Bond answered, a tone of arrogance and pride in his voice.

Q snapped fully into the conversation at that. “James, I already told you I don’t need to nor have any desire to learn,” Q snapped at him.

“You’re just going to have to trust me,” Bond replied, smirking.

“Oh, like you trust me?” Q asked incredulously.

Silence filled the car and Q knew he had crossed a line. Leave it to him to realize he might be in love and then ruin in the same day.

“Yes,” Bond’s voice said. He wasn’t looking at Q and his fingers were gripped tightly around the edge of the steering wheel, his eyes fixed determinedly forward.

“Oh,” was all Q could say, like a breath.

Silence filled the car again, but this time it was not the kind of comfortable silence between friends, but the tight, palatable silence that made one squirm uncomfortably in their chair.

“Did you get me a windcheater?” Q asked, hoping that it would tell Bond that he did trust him.

Bond’s lips twitched and his grip relaxed. “Had them put a Q on it an everything,” Bond said, glancing over at Q with the same insufferable smirk that he always seemed to have. Q’s heart jumped into his throat the way it always did.

_Definitely in love. Damn. ___

__“You had a windcheater monogramed for me?”_ _

__“Only the best for my quartermaster,” Bond smirked._ _

__The rest of the ride was spent with them falling in and out of conversation easily and Q found himself relaxing. He could handle this._ _

__When they pulled onto the long driveway it was dark but every light in the manor seemed to be lit. Bond and Q both got out of the car as an old man in a sweater with a white beard and brown wings that hung behind him. A dog ducked under one of them to peak out at Bond and Q._ _

__“I hope your friends are nicer this time around,” Kincade yelled to Bond. “It just got finished. Don’t need you blowing it up again.”_ _

__“Blowing things up is usually his expertise,” Bond said, jerking his head towards Q._ _

__“My expertise and your hobby,” Q grumbled._ _

__Bond flashed him a grin as he pulled the bags out of the back of the car. “Kincade, Q. Q, Kincade. Gamekeeper here since I was a kid,” Bond said, as they approached the door._ _

__Kincade extended his hand and Q shook it with a nod. “Nice to meet you.”_ _

__“I picked up some food. It’s in the kitchen, still don’t know how to use half of the things in there, but there’s food. I’ll leave you to it,” Kincade rambled as he walked out the door, two dogs following him. “And try not to cause any trouble.”_ _

__“I’ll keep him in line,” Bond yelled happily earning him an arched brow from both Q and Kincade. Inside the house it was all dark walls and hardwoods with stairs going up to the second floor and a dinning room to one side and a sitting room to another. “I’ll show you to your room,” Bond said, going up the stairs with both bags still in hand. “Unless you’d rather share mine.”_ _

__Q scoffed and thanked whatever god was left that Bond didn’t turn around to see him blushing. Bond put Q in the bedroom across from his, told him to help himself to the kitchen, and that he would see Q in the morning._ _

__At dawn Bond woke and put together a full breakfast for both of them and Q wondered down just as it was finished._ _

__Bond went into his own room and dug out his own windcheater before going downstairs and back outside as he pulled it over his head. He forced his wings through the slits on the back and took off. He hadn’t flown there since Silva’s attack and he expected the same feeling to be in the air. But there was no overwhelming heat coming from the house, and while there was a chill in the air he wasn’t in danger of getting hyperthermia from the moor water._ _

__He saw Q come out of the building, pulling on the new windcheater on, and trying to work his wings through the holes, his shirts had never had them, they were cheaper that way, and now that Bond thought about it he had never seen Q’s wings before. He landed a few feet away from Q. Q’s face was red from the cold and he seemed to be fighting with the jacket._ _

__“Let me,” Bond offered, walking behind Q and gently guiding the wings through the slots. When the jacket was on properly Q turned around to face Bond as he zipped it up, his wings coming to stand on either side of them._ _

__“I swear if you laugh on your next mission I will send you out with a squirt gun and nothing else,” Q snapped defensively. That was when Bond noticed that he had been staring at the two large black wings spreading to either side of Q making him look like some sort of avenging angel._ _

__“Why would I laugh? They’re gorgeous,” Bond said, moving his own wings to brush the tips of Q’s. The black wings snapped back to Q’s back as Q glared at Bond. “They are, Q. They fit you.”_ _

__“Oh so I’m gorgeous?” Q asked with a hint of a smirk as his wings started to unfurl behind him into a more relaxed position._ _

__Bond flashed him a smirk. “Let’s fly. Take a running start, jump and snap out your wings to–“_ _

__“Catch the air and push down, holding myself parallel to the ground. I understand the concept, Bond,” Q interrupted._ _

__“Then let’s see it,” Bond said with a smirk._ _

__Q glared at him, but turned away from Bond and did just as Bond had said. He was in the air, the muscles already cramping from the unusual strain on them._ _

__“Longer strokes,” he heard Bond yell to him. Bond emphasized the instruction by making exaggerated strokes. A lot of working and almost crashing and trying to figure out how to turn later Q was ready to have his feet back on the ground. That was when it occurred to Q that he had no idea how to stop and land._ _

__“James,” he yelled, turning himself to fly closer to Bond, the tips of their wings almost brushing._ _

__“Having fun?” Bond asked with a wide ridiculous grin that Q wasn’t used to having directed at him. Suddenly he was thankful that his face was flushed from the wind so Bond wouldn’t notice a little more color._ _

__“I don’t know how to land,” Q yelled back._ _

__Bond cursed. “Alright. Get close to the ground and move as if to stand up. It’s going to hurt the first time.”_ _

__Q nodded, and went closer to the ground, guiding himself. He didn’t know how long he flew close to the ground, trying to work up the nerve to try it, but he was suddenly too close, turned up to correct himself only for the wind to push against his wings, his body to continue with the momentum. “Fuck,” he heard himself say and he was crashing into something else. There was a flash of white and Bond was tumbling with him across the ground._ _

__When they came to a stop he realized his own wings were tucked against his back and Bond’s were surrounding him and he was pressed to Bond’s chest._ _

__Bond gently let Q go, though he stayed crouched over him, checking on him. He had dive-bombed when he saw Q curse and snap his wings against his back. “Are you,” was all he got out before he had Q’s mouth on his and he was being kissed. He kissed back fiercely. He had known for months that he was in love with Q and had resided himself to friendship. Now he was at home with Q under him kissing like the world was ending._ _

__Bond bit gently at Q’s bottom lip who opened his mouth, inviting Bond’s tongue into his mouth. He pressed himself closer and felt Q’s erection against his thigh and he heard himself groan._ _

__They broke a moment later for breath and Bond was ready to start biting at Q’s neck when he saw Q’s mortified face._ _

__“I’m sorry,” the younger man started saying over and over again. Bond rolled off of him and was going to say that there was really no reason to apologize when Q mumbled something about adrenaline._ _

__“What?” Bond asked, finally listening to what Q was actually rambling about._ _

__“I’m sorry. It was the adrenaline. I’m going to go find something to drink,” Q said without looking Bond in the eye. He rushed back into the house and Bond knew when he wasn’t wanted so he took off again._ _

__Bond was trying to figure out what he must have done in order to inspire Q to run away from him after kissing him like that. The only thing that he could think of was that the kiss really had been adrenaline only and Q hadn’t meant it._ _

__He flew for another twenty minutes before the other possibility came to light. He hit the ground near the door and found his way into the kitchen where Q sitting with his head in his hands staring at an half empty water glass._ _

__As soon as Bond walked into the room Q stood up and took his glass to the sink. Bond, of course, took the opportunity to press himself against Q’s back and grab his hands. He felt Q’s body tense against his, but he made no move to get away and Bond took his chance. “I think I still have some adrenaline left in me,” he whispered, kissing the soft spot below Q’s ear._ _

__Q spun away from Bond who was more than a little confused that his arms had ended up empty instead of carrying Q up the stairs to his bed._ _

__“You don’t have to do this, Bond. I have my pride,” Q said stiffly as if they were back at the office and Q was telling him to bring back his equipment. Q knew that if he were to betray one ounce of emotion he would lose it. He would let it show just how badly he wanted Bond to actually be his and he didn’t think he could take watching Bond’s face when he told him that he just wanted a night or he worse, that he was just kidding all around._ _

__It stung a little, more than Bond was really ready to admit to himself, that Q had closed himself off so tightly. He wanted to fight back and get under his quartermaster’s skin just like he had when they’re friendship first began. He stepped directly into Q’s personal space, close enough that he could feel Q’s breath on his face. “If you don’t want this I will never ask again. I will leave it alone and we can go back to being friends. But, Q, I want you.”_ _

__Bond watched Q’s face closely and saw the flicker of happiness, followed almost instantly by hurt and then by an unreadable expression. “Bond, I have no interest in having sex with you, though bravo. I didn’t think that you would put in so much work just to get into my pants. Had better call Moneypenny and tell her that she owes R twenty pounds.” Q’s voice came out firmer than he had expected since he could already feel the sting start at the back of his eyes._ _

__Bond stared wide-eyed as he processed what Q had just said. “Q, I’m not just in it for the sex. I want a relationship with you too.”_ _

__“Oh is that what you said to Strawberry Fields? What about Jill Masterson? Or Elektra King? Or May Day? Or Solange? Or Severine?” Q spat at him before he had thought through his words._ _

__Silence stretched between them and Q deflated as soon as the words that were still buzzing in the air settled in his mind._ _

__“Oh my god, James, I didn’t mean that. I swear. I am so sorry,” Q said, taking a step towards Bond and hating the fact that Bond didn’t move or react at all when Q’s hand came to stop on the agent’s arm._ _

__“You really know how to hit so that it counts, don’t you?” Bond said in a sharp, humorless, laugh that sounded hollow and dead to Q’s ears._ _

__“I’m so sorry. I’m just so scared…”_ _

__“Scared of what? What could you be so scared of?” Bond snapped, finally looking Q in the eye._ _

__“Of you hurting me,” Q snapped back. “Bond, James. I’m sorry, but I fell in love with you and I can’t sleep with you and everything be okay. You’ll find someone prettier as soon as you’ve had your way with me and I can’t take knowing that I was just another notch in your bedpost, so I can’t just fuck you.” By the end Q had tears blurring his vision and he just wanted to hide. This wasn’t how his weekend was supposed to go. Just Netflix and Bond, that’s all he wanted, and instead he realized his feelings for his best friend and admitted them while stuck with no way to get away._ _

__Bond’s face softened as he looked at Q and reached a hand out to touch the side of Q’s face. “Q, I don’t know how to convince you, but I don’t want you to be a notch in a bedpost. I want what you want. Please, give me a chance.”_ _

__Q didn’t say anything just kept breathing deeply, like he was having to think about each breath._ _

__“I know what it’s like to be scared, Q. I’m scared too, but I love you and it will be enough,” Bond said, gently cupping the other side of Q’s face and making the smaller man look him in the eye. “I love you, Q. And if you’re not ready then we won’t do anything but I’m telling you I love you.”_ _

__Q stared into his best friends eyes for so long that Bond thought that he might have forgotten the implied question. And almost as soon as Bond started to lower his hands from the side of Q’s face, Q cleared his throat and broke into a wide smile. “I want to. I want to be with you.”_ _

__Bond grinned just as stupidly, his wings coming up around Q and pulling him closer. Q’s wings fluttered against Bond’s as he tilled his head to kiss Bond’s lips in a light brush._ _


End file.
